Here And Now
by Juliet'sEmoPhase
Summary: Bucky forgets that Steve isn't as vulnerable as he used to be, so Steve decides to finally show him the man he's become in this modern world. Post AoU/Antman, SMUT.


Author's Note 11-09-15: A birthday present for Lyra (aka fandomsgonecrazy). It was nice to write a different OTP for a change!

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Here And Now

Steve glanced nervously over his shoulder into the belly of the jet as he steered them in for approach. "Just hang on Buck," he said, his voice tight and apprehensive as the crashing and growling kept up behind him, like a wild beast had got itself loose and into a frenzy. He guessed, in a way, it had.

It was supposed to have been a simple reconnaissance mission, no action, that had turned into a fire fight quicker than you could spit. He'd known Bucky hadn't been ready to go out in the field again, he knew it was too soon, but he'd let the stupid jerk talk him into it anyway. And now here they were, barely in one piece, and Bucky in God knows what state as he thrashed against the cabin door and paced and gnashed his teeth as he panted and whined.

Once on the plane, he'd been in such a rage Steve had given him enough tranquilisers to knock out a horse for half a day, but he'd woken up ten minutes before they were due to land and had began tearing the joint apart. "Buck, buddy, come on, talk to me," Steve urged as the new Avengers facility came into view along the sunny horizon. "We're almost there, just hang in there for me would ya?"

But Bucky continued his feral assault on the bay, and even though Steve couldn't see he knew he was yanking at his too long hair and kicking things and scratching at his metal arm. Damn it, if they hadn't been on their own Nat or Sam could have taken the wheel, and Steve could have grabbed the stupid S-O-B and _made_ his ass calm down.

The hanger doors were already open as he made their approach, the ground crews scattering below them and signalling the bird in. "Gently does it," Steve muttered, acutely aware of Bucky's increasingly distressed state, his heart aching at his uselessness until he could let go of the controls.

The second the engine kicked off Bucky wrenched the door clean off its hinges and jumped down onto the tarmac before Steve had even had a chance to get his seatbelt off. "BUCKY!" he barked, but his friend was already out of sight. Steve cursed and followed suit, much to the bewilderment of the personnel as he too landed on the ground, shield slung behind his back, a scowl on his face.

"Sorry about your plane," he grumbled to the lead engineer as he took off into the main facility, hoping Bucky was just heading back to his quarters rather than making a dash into obscurity again.

The place was buzzing with people, and it was easy to track Bucky's route by following the stunned expressions and turned heads. As he made his way hurriedly through the main concourse, Steve felt a prickling on the back of his neck and looked up to see a familiar redhead looking down on him from the second floor balcony. He didn't pause in his stride though, she would catch up if she wanted to.

He'd not pushed through two more doors before Natasha Romanoff was by his side.

"That bad huh?" she drawled, keeping up with his lengthy strides.

Steve shook his head. "It was fine, nothing out of the ordinary, he just shouldn't have been there, it was too soon."

He knew Nat had agreed with him, but there was no talking Bucky out of something once he'd made up his mind. So now they would just have to deal with the fallout.

Luckily, Bucky's door was locked, meaning he was inside. Unluckily, it meant Steve couldn't _get_ inside. "Bucky, please open the door?" he called through the metal as he and Nat leant their shoulders against it, looking at each other tiredly.

"Want me to break through the lock?" Natasha asked with a quirk on an eyebrow. "Or get in through the vent shafts?"

Steve shook his head and gave her a small smile to show he appreciated the gesture. "He'll let me in eventually," he assured her.

She folded her arms and looked at the door as if she could see Bucky pacing on the other side. "What happened. Did he get hurt?"

"He's fine as far as I can tell," Steve sighed and scrubbed his hand against his hair. "We got jumped but it was nothing we couldn't handle. It's just one of the guys snuck in a lucky shot with some kinda bazooka and next thing I know I'm flat on my ass, and Bucky just…" he shrugged. "Lost it."

"But you're fine?" Nat asked sceptically.

He rubbed his chest gingerly. "A few bruised ribs maybe, nothing to worry about."

Nat's eyes flicked to the door again. "And that's what set him off." Steve nodded. "He's worried about you?"

Steve blinked. "No, it-" He'd just assumed seeing himself knocked over had triggered something in Bucky's memory and he'd flipped back into Winter Soldier mode, or he'd become defensive thinking he was under threat from Hydra again. "Me?" he clarified.

It was Nat's turn to shrug. "Just a guess. Won't know until you get any sense from him."

Steve chewed on that. "Maybe," he said, then "Bucky?" a little louder at the door again.

She patted his shoulder. "I think I should leave you two alone," she said kindly, then leant in to kiss his cheek as she took his shield from his back. "Don't let him kick your ass too hard."

He watched her go, talking to some of their younger recruits as she went, perfectly at ease in herself. Or at least that was how she appeared. He sighed. He'd gotten quite good at seeming like he was cool and collected, that he was comfortable in his own skin. But the truth was Steve Rogers never really knew who he was.

Unless he was with Bucky.

"Buck, it's just me," he said, resting his forehead against the cold chrome door. He wished he wasn't still in full gear, but he wasn't going to risk going away to get changed into civilian clothes and giving Bucky the chance to sneak off again. "Please let me in."

The door clicked suddenly, opening just an inch or two, and Steve jumped back in response. He held his breath, but nothing happened, so he carefully pushed it open a little further. "Bucky?"

Eventually he was able to slide through, taking in the dimly lit bedroom with its curtains pulled and clothes, bedding and documents strewn everywhere. He didn't locate Bucky though until he was full body-slamming him into the wall. "You _stupid, fuckin'-"_ Bucky snarled, tears fresh on his face as his long hair worked loose of its tie, mingling with the sweat on his brow and plastering to his skin.

"Hey, _hey,"_ Steve cried back, wrestling him away and gripping onto his shoulders so he had to look at him. The metal arm was still so alien to his touch, hard and cold and a constant reminder of everything Hydra had taken from them. And also, in a twisted way, everything they had given back too.

"Bucky!" he snapped. "It's me, Steve!"

Bucky wrenched himself away. "I know it's _you,"_ he spat. "You idiot, what the hell were you playin' at out there!" He flung his arm at the door that had now closed itself again, but Steve knew he meant the mission. "You _tryin'_ to get yourself killed, you klutz!"

"Buck, I'm fine," Steve insisted, thinking maybe Nat was right. "Is that what this is all about?"

"You're not invincible, you can still _die_ Steve," he shot back. "And yet you just, he – that guy, I-"

"Hey, hey, hey," Steve soothed, moving closer and taking hold of him again, gentler this time though. Bucky trembled under his touch, his turbulent eyes downcast as he clenched his jaw tight. "I'm not that skinny kid from Brooklyn anymore."

Bucky snorted. "You don't get it, do you?" he said, and looked up. "Yes you _are."_

Steve's gaze was locked with his as he searched for what he meant. He guessed maybe he did feel like that broken boy again sometimes, when it was just him and Bucky, when he remembered the life they'd shared all those years ago. The one he'd buried because he thought it was gone forever. Even after all that time with the Howling Commandos, Bucky had a way of making him feel small and delicate again, and judging by his reaction today, perhaps Bucky really did still see him as someone who needed protecting.

"I got you though," Steve said with half a smile. "Saving my ass like old times. We're both still here."

Bucky was shaking his head vigorously again. "He shot you, he _shot-"_

"I'm _fine,"_ Steve told him again, stepping away and ripping his gauntlets off before snapping at the buckles on his gear. Within seconds he was hauling his armour off, taking the undershirt with it, so he was only left in boots and pants. He was breathing heavily as he held out his hands to illustrate that he was still in one piece. A little black and blue perhaps, but nothing was missing or poking a hole through his guts.

Bucky calmed and took in a shuddery breath, eyes focused on Steve's chest. He guessed maybe he should have been embarrassed but he wasn't. He always felt natural with Bucky, and now was no exception. Even when he stepped forward, and carefully, gently placed his flesh and blood hand against Steve's bruising skin.

"I'm fine," he whispered again.

Bucky blinked, shaking his head slightly. "I can't – Steve I can't lose you again."

Steve placed his own hand over Bucky's, staring at the union. "You won't."

He knew about loss. He knew about love too. He knew that the world he'd woken up in allowed him to fully understand that his own, personal definition of the word could be broader than he had ever imagined back in 1945. He knew that he had loved Peggy with all his heart, and that losing her had been almost too painful to endure. He now knew, with no hesitation, that the way he'd felt for Bucky Barnes had been the same, and watching him plummet from that train cart had been nothing to seeing him alive and well again on that freeway.

Once he'd stopped trying to kill him and the rest of the Avengers, things had gotten even easier.

But still, Bucky was haunted, and sometimes he got confused, jumbling up the past and the present. His core instinct to _protect_ Steve had never waned, and Nat was right, that was what had broken him again.

So Steve needed to show him how fine he was, how strong he was. How he was the one now that could protect Bucky from the world.

He tightened his fingers gently around Bucky's, then reached forward to pull him into to him, wrapping his arm around his shoulders and pressing them close, their interlocked hands still pressed between them. Bucky exhaled into his neck, and a flurry of goose flesh whipped over Steve's exposed skin.

The zips and poppers on Bucky's jacket bit into the now sensitive skin as Steve cradled him possessively. "I'm fine," he whispered once more.

Tentatively, he moved his hands so his could slip the jacket down, dropping it into the mess already on the floor. Instinctively, Bucky made to grab at his prosthetic arm, to shy away, but Steve caught him again. He loved him just as much now as he did when they were kids. He didn't need to be afraid or ashamed, he just needed to know that Steve had him, and he always would.

Their touches had always been taboo in the past, never acknowledged, always making Steve's heart ache more with each graze of fingertips. He had no time for such nonsense now, not when God or the universe or whatever had given them this impossible second chance. Bucky had been scared he'd lost Steve earlier, so now he needed to convince him how much he was really _his._

How he always had been.

Bucky was still trembling as Steve guided him towards his bed and kicked off his boots. He sat down with Buck stood in front of him, and reached over to unlace his shoes too. Bucky let him. The covers were already pushed back, so Steve swung his legs so he could lie down, hands pulling Bucky into him.

"What are you-" Bucky said through shaky breaths.

"Just get in here, would ya?"

Bucky complied quietly, letting Steve fold around him, draw him in as he reached back and eased the comforter back over them. "I'm here, I'm fine," he mumbled into Bucky's hair, feeling him slowly relax in his arms.

He was aware of every single line of muscle through Bucky's t-shirt as they slowly inhaled and exhaled together. He could feel where the metal ended and the flesh began, and he didn't flinch away when hands of each took hold of his own.

"Steve," he rasped simply, and he could almost taste his fear ebbing away.

But it wasn't just Bucky benefiting from their solid, physical connection though. Steve had never held someone quite like this, and the sensation was quite overwhelming. He nuzzled his face into Bucky's damp hair, that despite a bucket load of modern products still managed to smell like the same old soap they'd used in the forties. And without thinking, he placed a gentle kiss against it.

As his lips drew back, his eyes opened in horror as he realised what he'd just done, but before he could process the feeling, Bucky was turning in his arms and looking up at him with calm, wide eyes. He reached up with his flesh and blood hand, and traced the finger tips down the side of Steve's jaw, his gaze never wavering from Steve's anxious face. "You're here," he said with a small nod of understanding. "You're okay."

Steve nodded. "I'm here Buck," he repeated. "We both are."

And because Steve always felt natural around Bucky, because that's where he truly felt at home and like he could really be himself, he didn't fight the urge to lean down and, finally, place a kiss on his lips.

Bucky's hand slipped further up into his hair as he immediately responded in turn, opening his mouth for Steve and pressing their tongues together, moaning as they shifted in the bed so Bucky was moved further underneath, their bodies tight and heavy in their embrace. Steve had been so afraid to touch Bucky before his treatment, thinking he couldn't possibly see him as anything more than a little brother. And then after, on all those missions across Europe, it had seemed even more preposterous that two fully grown men could hold each other like they were now. But in that moment, Steve felt he had never been closer to heaven, only his kiss with Peggy could ever come close to knowing he had someone he loved pressed into him like they were the last two souls on Earth.

It was new and terrifying and incredible and Steve had a feeling he would never, ever get tired of it. Bucky was hungry for him, hands roaming possessively across his back, one cold, one warm, hugging him close. The kiss was only broken when Buck pushed against him so he had room to remove his t-shirt, and then Steve found himself yanked back against his naked chest, and he realised that no pleasure he'd ever experienced before compared to the sensation of skin sliding against skin.

"Steve," Bucky breathed, grinning and completely at ease as Steve gave his mouth a break and traced his kisses down his neck then along the scarred flesh where man became metal. He laughed, the sonofabitch. "Took you long enough."

Steve jerked his head up, short of breath. "Huh?"

"Captain America, bravest man on the planet," Bucky crowed, but there was a slight shakiness to his voice that betrayed his earlier distress. "How many decades can one man wait to get to second base?"

Steve glowered down at him. "I don't exactly remember you tryna get in my pants, Sergeant Barnes," he growled playfully, but secretly he was feeling like the God damn Fourth of July. He dipped down to kiss Bucky's neck again as he chuckled.

"We all know who's always been in charge of this relationship," he murmured, carding his metal fingers through Steve's hair.

"I think that's up for debate," Steve said sceptically.

Bucky nuzzled the side of his head, forcing him to look him in the eye. "No it's not," he said in all seriousness, their foreheads resting together. "Let me show you."

Steve nodded, full of wonder. He'd been a little busy saving the world for so many years, and without anyone around to measure up to Peg or Buck, he'd not given much consideration towards sex, but now he could safely say it was his all consuming thought.

Bucky was in command (proving Steve's point as far as he was concerned), and the kisses came back in full force, mouths battling against each other as hands grappled for purchase on the other's body. From his position underneath, Bucky kicked and scrambled against their pants, so Steve took the hint and joined in the struggle until they were both as naked as the day they'd been born.

His whole world had been reduced to one James Buchanan Barnes, who fit so perfectly beneath him he wondered how he could have even doubted how he really felt. They were pressed together as intimately as possible, or so Steve thought as they undulated back and forth. But then Buck flung his good arm out wildly, groping for his bed-side cabinet but unwilling to pull away from their kiss. Eventually, he snatched out some sort of bottle, and made short work of spilling something onto his fingers.

"You with me?" he asked Steve, skin glowing with a sheen of sweat, breaths coming out in pants.

"'Til the end of the line," he replied without hesitation.

The slippery human hand came between them and suddenly the sensation increased tenfold, making Steve gasp out and arch his back.

"Stay with me," Bucky begged, lowering him back down.

Steve nodded. "I'm with ya," he gasped. "I'm here, I'm here."

They continued to pulse together but Bucky dropped his hand beneath himself, doing something Steve wasn't sure of but he honestly didn't have much room in his over stimulated brain to mind. Bucky was under him, writhing in his arms, and he'd never seen anything more astounding or felt anything more incredible in his life.

Buck shifted suddenly, pushing himself further up the bed and taking Steve's length in his hand, producing another predictable gasp from him. "Stay with me," he whispered again into Steve's ear, the other arm still pulling him down onto his chest. "I'm here Steve, just relax."

Steve nodded but he wasn't sure he could physically relax. He felt like he a had a thousand volts of electricity flying through him, but he tried concentrating on his breathing as Buck angled him in between his legs, arching his hips up to meet Steve's and urging him… _inside._

"Buck?" he stuttered.

"It's okay," he gasped determinedly. "I'm ready, I gotcha buddy, just stay with me."

Once more Steve just focused on the breaths he was drawing in and out of his body, and he was able to appreciate how mind-blowing this new sensation was. Everything was tight and hot and throbbing. Buck's face was screwed up and his chest heaved up and down as he bit his lip and moved them slowly, impossibly closer together.

They stilled, both breathing deeply and dripping sweat. "Okay," said Bucky after a while. "Okay, it's okay."

"Am I hurting you?" Steve rasped, but Bucky shook his head.

"Just takes a minute," he assured him. "It's okay, you can move."

Steve felt every inch the God damn virgin he was, and he was torn between wanting to make sure Bucky was really alright, and carrying on with this unbelievable thing they'd started together. He figured that was them though, jumping in with two feet, all hell be damned. "Like this?" he asked, rolling his hips experimentally.

Bucky clamped his fingers, metal and human, into Steve's back and nodded vigorously. "That's it, right there," he stammered.

"It's good?"

"Fuckin' amazin'."

"Language," Steve managed to laugh as he did it again, picking up a pace that had them both practically sobbing in ecstasy.

"Fuck," Buck howled with a wicked look of defiance as Steve rode him into the mattress. "Shit, God damn mother _fucker."_

He spasmed and jerked just as white light burst in front of Steve's eyes, crippling him as he convulsed and seized Bucky into him, their bodies trembling together in the aftermath of their climax.

He fell, boneless, on top of Bucky, cradling him and gradually easing back out. "Are you okay?" he whispered, to which Bucky responded by capturing his mouth again for a long, slow kiss.

"Now _that,"_ he hummed. "Was worth waiting seventy years for."

End


End file.
